Max: Okay, well, the mango soda's orange, and it's Autumn, and orange is a more Autumn color - because of the pumpkins plus the leaves - than the yellow, the pineapple one, I think, so I'll pick the mango soda.

Me: Cool.

Older Lady Walking By: Oh, just enjoy him! He'll be gone tomorrow!

Me:(to Max) Are you leaving tomorrow?

Max:(grins) No.

Me: Oh, that's all right then.

Older Lady Now Stopped Dead In Her Tracks: I just meant...time is...you know...

Us:(walking away, giggling together)

At the laundromat:Curious Looking Guy: (wearing headphones and just staring at me, folding my laundry for a good fifteen minutes, and is unresponsive to even the most overt forms of greeting)

Me:(walking over) Is there a problem here? What are you looking at?

Huge Guy: Is there a problem over here?

Me: That's what I was just trying to figure out. This guy keeps staring at me like he's got a crush.

Not content with merely being an infamous scumbag and notorious very bad man, President Dubya Monkeyface took an extra step this week toward his true aspiration - becoming a monster. While clenching his gnarled claw inside his iron gauntlet and turning a jaundiced eye on the members of the Fourth Estate, he slammed the heavy oak table in the Roosevelt Room with his fist, vowing to veto once again any legislation for poor sick children, while demanding more money for wars and the mechanism of government, heckling the congress with childish rhetoric for not giving it to him. Furthermore, he posited that any poor sick children left without health care could be given cheaply made knives and would fend for themselves in the spirit of a free market, or could be made into meat pies and fed to other poor sick children as a delicious and nutritious meal. When it was pointed out to the President that this would be unnatural, horrifying, and an abomination, he scoffed openly while stroking a luxuriant white cat, and replaced his monocle, saying;

"Being the President's a hard job - but I want more. Being a outright monster, well, that means denyin' genocides, keepin' poor sick kids under your thumb, which in turn means keepin' 'em around, torturing people in dank, forgotten, secret places...and lying to the rank n' file about absolutely everything. Anybody who won't step into line with my agenda, or heck - threatens me and anyone who falls under my shadow - we'll launch a blood-soaked Crusade and bomb the shit out them and anyone who looks like them, take 'em right back to the stone age. I truly believe humanity, and America, and friends of mine who profit from war an' strife, can benefit from the crucible I will create. Still got more than a year, people. Heh."

It is believed by many at this point in his life that the President has been allowing radioactive pit vipers and crack addicted cobras to nip and gnaw at his exposed genitals while he rests upon a throne made of polished bone, in an effort to cultivate superpowers, or at least, life eternal. He snorts the ashes of Eva Braun at the full moon and drinks Blackbeard's high alcohol content (and black - so black) blood from the socket-fucked skull of Caligula, while reading aloud the secret Enochian writings of Aleister Crowley from a codex bound in the bullet hole-ridden and cyanide-cured skin of Rasputin, his feet propped on a series of naked Iraqi boys who are kept for this purpose, among others. Then, on his way to press conferences - like this one referenced above wherein he backhandedly announced his intentions to pursue monsterhood - he touches the cold, dried lips of John Wilkes Booth's preserved and partially mutilated corpse - you know, for luck.

But I want to know what you think - 737-ROCK, 737-ROLL, our switchboard is open.

As best as I can tell, Excalibur Comics, in conjunction with the Wonder Woman Museum (and mannequin project?) has this going for only the second time ever this year. They're doing this during Domestic Violence Awareness time to raise awareness and also cash money for shelters and hotlines. Taking place on Sunday the 28th in Portland, Oregon and also this year in New Jersey, they have a silent auction for comic artwork and last year they got fifteen grand out of doing this. They also do tabling and fun costume stuff.

Seems like something you - and I - should support. So go read about it, buy something if you're well-heeled enough, and give a big shout out for Wonder Woman vs. Domestic Violence. With the help of lots of real people.

But no. What are we focused on as Americans, if the stats for most of the search engines are to be believed (after the government changes all the numbers for publication)? Ellen's dog. Ellen DeGeneres' former freaking dog. I've always liked Ellen, thought she was funny - her Taste This album is among the best of all times - and I don't think she mishandled anything as far as I can see. Other than breaking down on her show, of course. She probably shouldn't have done that. But she's dealing with that, too. Basically, she got a dog, it didn't get along with her other animals, and so she gave it away to a family who wanted a dog, violating some sort of contract that most people could give a shit about. She's not Mike Vick, people, and it's only because of his cruel, dumb ass that we're paying that much attention to this non-story.

And overlooking the most important fact in all of this. "...DeGeneres and her partner, Portia De Rossi..." Who? Isn't that the hot chick who used to be on Completely Inconsequential Fox Television Show? Holy shit! It is! Ellen gets such hot women! Wow! Way to fucking go, Ellen! If you were here, I'd congratulate you, high fives all around! Damn, girl!Portia De Rossi!Whooo!(This last noise is meant to be an approximation of a live studio audience, duly impressed with Ellen's sexual partner selection prowess, expressing it as only a live studio audience is able.)

SB: "Yes, the actual President, wearing his suit but missing his shirt, tie like a headband, nose like a margarita glass, pistol in the shoulder holster, on the porch furniture...I'm poking him with a stick right now, thinking about sticking some fruit on his head."

WH: "Wha - Is he waking up? (heavy shuffling sounds) Sir, this is Frank Corley of the President's Secret Service detail; who is this, please?"

SB: "Eh...I'd rather not say. There're always helicopters over any place I live anyway."

WH: "Sir - we will find out, but in the meantime can you confirm the presence of the President at your residence?"

SB: "He just farted and rolled over in his sleep. That swing really isn't big enough to sl-"

WH: "SIR. Can you get close enough to the President to see his left ear?"

SB: "Okay...I'm there. Whouf, what a smell."

WH: "Can you read me the code there beneath his ear, just above the speaker jack?"

SB: "Zero-four-three, six-eight-six, one-one-six-three."

WH: "Sir, we are now on high alert. Please step away from the President as his tracking system bleeds radiation that may be harmful to you and your family. (to others) People, we need a team to the following coordinates on the double, I will need the Full Bender extraction, retrieval and damage teams..."

Matt Olson sent me an email on Friday, and now I have a Hollywood Video membership.

Probably not the result he was looking for, but when Matt Olson sent me this Wired article yesterday morning, he led me and my co-workers into a discussion about robot ethics. Not really a productive discussion, but a loose exchange of ideas. What should they be programmed to do, and what shouldn't they - for instance, should a person have to intervene and make a decision to inflict death? You might be surprised at some of the answers. This quickly degenerated into movie quotes and scene descriptions as we realized that Hollywood had already long ago filmed most of our worst predictions of robotic abuses of power. I think we have to use the word "prophestic." That led to me hunting down the above example on YouTube (from the Director's Cut, natch) and then going out to rent RoboCop last night, only to find that the Green Hills location of Blockbuster - the only video store to which I can quickly walk - doesn't have it. Thus, I found myself dealing with the flirty counter girl at Hollywood, and coming home to sit alone in the living room watching Paul Verhoven's last good movie. (While I enjoy watching and can appreciate the value of both Total Recall and Starship Troopers, neither of them is a "good" movie in my opinion.)

So - for homework, I want you all to watch RoboCop. Draw parallels to the Bush Administration.

Well, of course he fucking is - he's Stephen Colbert. His whole career at this point is based on a one-off joke on the Daily Show that people really liked. The whole show, the book, the comic book, basically everything the man says is him taking the joke too far, and to great effect. You had to know that if enough people in enough places whispered "Colbert for President" enough times that the writers of the show would seize on it and exploit it. The ABC News story says though, "But wait a minute - he's contacted the Dems and GOP in South Carolina. What about that, Squidbag?" (paraphrased) If you can't see this as a foundation for a future bit, then you haven't been watching his show. They talk to real Senators and Representatives, too - that doesn't make them lobbyists or an investigative or exploratory committee. It doesn't even make them a special interest group, other than in the same way that we all are. Colbert announcing for Prez does not make him a serious candidate, no matter what he does, and yes - it is a joke, and it will go too far.

Much like many of the other contenders for the nomination. "A Joke that Went Too Far" certainly sums up the career of the sitting President, as well as the campaigns of many of the fuckers currently vying for the job. On both sides. But especially Fred Thompson. "Like voting for a kindly, drunken great-uncle: Thompson 08." The ABC article raises the concern that Steve will strip votes away from the more serious candidates. So? Actual votes stopped mattering in 2000, and it's the right of Americans to vote for whoever they'd like, even if that person represents a bad, impossible choice for the office. Remember back in 2000, when a bunch of people voted for this guy? What the fuck was that about? And how come no one was worried about the campaigns of Ficus, Randee of the Redwoods, Bill the Cat, George Wallace or Lex Luthor? And remember this guy from 1992 & 1996? Now there's a vote-sucking joke candidate. Folks, getting worried that Colbert might drain votes away from one of the other "more established" candidates does two things you're trying to complain about; it trivializes the other candidates, and makes Steve's campaign sound like you're taking it seriously.

To begin, the President is threatening us with a war I thought he already started, World War III. I thought we were in that. I mean, I'm no analyst or historian or diplomat or general, but I thought a World War was where more than one nation's force was engaged in a conflict against another force made up of more than one nation, and that the conflict raged internationally. Well, if the President's previous statements are to be believed - and don't let me talk you into anything rash, here - there is a coalition of the willing, made up of several nations, and those nations are currently engaged in a two-front war against Iraqi insurgents, and whoever it is that won't let us leave Afghanistan, all because of Winn-Dix - I mean, of course, Al-Qaeda, an organization with more tentacles than a Lovecraftian hallucination, again - if the Monkey in Chief and his lickspittles are to be taken at their so-called "word."

Nevertheless, the Prez has it that we should keep nuclear knowledge from Iran, and that Putin better explain himself better, or we're once again teetering on the brink of mutually assured destructification. I like this quote: "...I've told people that, if
you're interested in avoiding World War III, it seems like you
ought to be interested in preventing them (the Iranian government) from having the
knowledge necessary to make a nuclear weapon." It makes him sound so goddamn folksy, doesn't it? "Well, seems to me, best way to avoid a thermonuclear exchange is if we all sit down and work this out over a frosty lemonade and slice of my mom's rhubarb pie. What say?" Also, since this information is publicly available, seems like restricting the materials would be more productive.

In addition, the President addressed his ongoing concerns about pissing off the government of Turkey, who will flat kick our white asses off of Incirlik Air Base if our congress passes non-binding resolution calling the Turkish genocide of Armenians a Turkish genocide carried out against Armenians. He minimized the importance of this, saying that the Congress of the US should be far more concerned with its present-day responsibilities, - i.e., shipping weapons and guns and bombs through Turkish air bases - than with tidying up the historical records of shit that happened during the Ottoman Empire. Falling back on an age-old argument here, George; If it's so unimportant, why are the Turks so worked up about it? It matters because millions of people died. Now shut the Presidential Yap, please.

But no - there's more. Dubya found a way to compare himself to the Dalai Lama, besides the fact that they both have Rolexes. (Beware the music of the Rolex site, by the way.) The Lama believes in religious freedom, and Dubya believes in religious freedom, so in this way, they are similar. Also, this proves that Turkish people, who control your shipping routes and supply lines matter, and Chinese people, who got the Olympics and with whom we have a huge trade deficit, and who keep causing trouble with tainted dog food and toothpaste and leaden toys anyway, can take a sharp diplomatic stick dipped in habenero rhetoric to the eye now and again.

The latest Animoto video. Spent all morning at a fundraiser for the homeless, dealt with a cranky baby, watched some Iron Chef and Kentucky beat Nick's Tigers - it was time for the standard weekend video. And this one has a theme - sort of.

The Germans have released an energy drink called "Black Bastard." While I am mildly offended and completely stunned at what would appear to be a deliberate (unlike the unfortunate Umbro Zyklon sneakers) racial slur inherent in the marketing, I am also filled with jokes. Like, "You can't release "Black Bastard." Black Bastard breaks out on its own." Or alternative beverage names that would have been worse, like "Blitzkrieg" or "Obersturmthirstenfurher" or "Baron Von Quenchoven." I guess we should be happy that whatever suicidally retarded development group came up with and executed this idea didn't christen it "Hitler Piss" or "Jew Juice," either. One last one: "Krystallgetrank." I think that's enough of those. I have less than no idea what these people were thinking - you can't market this anywhere in the English-speaking world and not alienate a good chunk of the drinking audience. There is only a small group that's going to be okay bellying up to the bar and saying, "I'll have a Black Bastard." And I'm not sure we need packs of energetic Germans roaming around anyway. They don't have the best history with bursts of energy.

I notice three things on the site to which I'll draw your attention; 1) They have 2 pictures, and one of them features a black woman as if to say, "See, it's okay - we found a black person to wear one of our shirts." 2) How long do you think this has been around, since it looks like the site (logo, designwork, etc.) was finished yesterday in someone's garage? 3) It has basically the same make-up as every other energy drink on the market, so is this a real drink, or a joke? Seriously?